


Psychics Are People, Two

by DinerGuy



Category: Psych
Genre: Fandom, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Stalker, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-07 17:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinerGuy/pseuds/DinerGuy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Psych gang has dealt with all types of criminals before, but Laura Peters was one of a kind. Now she's back, and this time Shawn isn't the recipient of her love and affection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cowritten with my best friend, Kkarrie.
> 
> This is a sequel to a fic she has posted on her profile, which we also wrote together. I definitely suggest reading that one first. "Psychics Are People, Too" before you dive into this one. You'll enjoy it more (plus you won't be spoiled for that one by reading this one).
> 
> Disclaimer: Psych isn't ours, sadly. Laura is, though, and we rather love (hate) her.

 

_Hello Everyone!_

_It's me! I know what you're thinking: this website looks a whole lot like my other one. I assure you, however, that it is completely different. As you can see, there is a distinct lack of fanfics and dreams of matrimony. All the pictures on here are legitimately taken; I didn't hide behind any bushes._

_You might be asking yourself, 'Didn't you get put in prison two years ago?' or 'Did you ever get Detective Lassiter's blood out of your favorite dress?' or my personal favorite, 'How did your therapy go?'_

_It's true that, I, Laura Peters was a resident of the state psychological center. The state of California decided that completing a therapy program there would be acceptable retribution for the things I did two years ago. (And yes, I did get my dress clean. Hydrogen peroxide and cold water work wonders.)_

_But back on topic. I'm going to come as clean here as my dress now is; I don't have a crazy obsession with the psychic detective Shawn Spencer any more. I no longer have 1000 adjectives to describe his hair and I no longer fantasize about our wedding. I think he and Detective O'Hara make a lovely couple and I am perfectly happy for them._

_After kidnapping Head Detective Carlton Lassiter of the Santa Barbara Police Department and landing myself in a boatload of trouble, I had a time of inner reflection and realized the error of my ways. There is only one person who deserves all the attention I had previously been bestowing on Shawn Spencer and much, much more. (I'll give you a hint: his name begins with Carlton and ends with Lassiter.)_

_Please take a look around the site and bask in the epicness that is the finest, most amazing, most wonderful head detective in the entire history of the SBPD._

_\- Laura_

_P.S. Aren't his eyes amazingly blue?_

* * *

"I'm sensing something great and powerful!" Shawn Spencer shouted to the surrounding crowd. He was standing in the middle of the civic center. The state gymnastics finals were that weekend and only five minutes earlier, Susie Andrews, the state qualifier for the balance beam, had been preparing to start her routine. Then Shawn had run into the middle of the floor.

"Spencer! Get out of the way!" Lassiter yelled from the sidelines. The police were in full force due to threats on all the gymnasts' lives over the past week. None had been carried through, except a pommel horse that had collapsed and left one of the competitors in the hospital with a broken ankle. Despite their best efforts, the department had been unable to catch the person responsible.

"Give me three minutes," Shawn held up three fingers at the detective. "Gina Madison got that much time for her floor routine and although I won't be ending mine with a double axel, I think I deserve just as much time."

"That's an ice skating move, Spencer," Lassiter snapped, avoiding the weird looks Juliet gave him for knowing that.

"I've heard it both ways, Lassifrass," Shawn laughed.

"Shawn, hurry up," Gus whispered. He glanced around nervously at the parents who were giving the duo threatening looks.

"Although great and powerful, I'm not referring to the Wizard of Oz," Shawn continued, narrowing his eyes as he spotted the civic center's head janitor. The guy had been hanging around all weekend and yet Shawn hadn't seen him cleaning a single thing. Plus, whenever any of the events had been going on, the guy was always at the next event on the list, claiming to be checking the area for spills. Shawn focused in on the name embroidered on the uniform shirt. It was the same last name as one of the gymnasts who was participating in the competition.

"Our friendly neighborhood janitor hasn't been here for the epic jumps or bar routines." Shawn pointed his finger at the man. "He's been here to create a sensational week of stories for the newspaper and to help his granddaughter advance in the finals."

If the panicked, deer in the headlights look hadn't tipped the cops off, the all-out sprint for the nearest exit definitely did.

Juliet clotheslined him before he got there and had him in cuffs by the time Lassiter hurried over, closely followed by Shawn and Gus.

"And to think, these are only twelve year olds," Gus tsked.

* * *

Lassiter was on his third cup of coffee when the Psych duo waltzed into the station the next day. He rolled his eyes as Spencer stopped by O'Hara's desk first.

"If you're looking for your check, Spencer, the Chief said it would be another day or two. I know she called you about it; you shouldn't even need to come back here," he snapped, piling his reports together.

"Lassie," Shawn laughed and shook his head. "I always need to come back here, if only to kiss the fair Juliet's hand and wish her well. You've been working her hard this week and I haven't gotten to see her."

Lassiter growled something under his breath and headed for the front desk to drop off his reports.

"Be nice to Carlton, Shawn." Juliet patted her boyfriend's arm. "He's been under a lot of stress lately."

"I can't imagine why," Shawn commented. He cocked his head to the side as he noticed a purple envelope sticking out from a pile on Lassiter's desk. "What is this? Does Lassifrass have a secret admirer?" He snatched the envelope from the pile.

"Shawn, it's illegal to go through someone else's mail," Gus rolled his eyes.

"It's illegal to open, but this seal, my friend, has already been broken." Shawn waved the card in the air. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the handwriting on the front before pulling out the folded paper inside.

"What is it, Shawn?" Gus asked.

"Well, I mean, I only saw her handwriting once..." Shawn flipped the card upside down and looked at it more closely.

"Who?" Juliet prompted.

"Spencer! What in the name of Sweet Lady Justice are you doing? Don't go through my mail!" Lassiter was back. He snatched the card from Shawn's hand and quickly stuffed it in his desk drawer.

"Lassie," Shawn tried to calm himself. "Can you please explain to me why you are in correspondence with one Laura Peters?"

"Laura Peters?" Gus repeated. "You mean the crazy girl who stalked you and kidnapped Lassiter to convince him of how awesome she thought your hair was?"

"Yes, kidnapped, stalked, shot, concussed and generally assaulted Lassiter," Shawn clarified. "And for the record, my hair is awesome." He frowned, putting a hand protectively to his head. "Lassie, you do remember all that right?"

"So what, she sent me a card," Lassiter shrugged noncommittally. "People in prison send me cards all the time." He avoided meeting the looks being shot his way. "It doesn't mean anything."

"Why haven't you said anything about it?" Shawn asked. "That card was postmarked last week."

"I told you; I have received letters from convicted criminals before." Lassiter crossed his arms. "And it's none of your business who sends me mail and who doesn't, Spencer. Now stop interrogating me; I have better things to do with my afternoon." He grabbed his jacket and stalked off before anyone could ask him more questions.

Juliet watched him go. "Shawn, he hasn't been this defensive about anything since his divorce. I'm worried about him."

"Me too, Jules, me too," Shawn murmured. "Gus! To the Psych cave! We have some research to do."

* * *

"She has a whole site set up for Lassie!" Shawn was staring at his computer screen, his face a mixture of amusement and disgust.

It had only taken about twenty minutes to track down the site. Laura hadn't been any more creative with the site name than before; ShawnSpencer. net had been replaced by LassiterRocks. com.

"I mean, the only condolence is the lack of short stories," Shawn mused, clicking through some of the photo albums.

"How was she released after only two years?" Gus was reading over Shawn's shoulder.

"Who cares? The bigger question is how do we break it to Lassie that he's got his own stalker site?" Shawn frowned as he came across a picture of Lassiter accepting an award for the Salamatchla case. "Can we print out the site and post it all over his desk? Show up at his condo with balloons and a condolence card?"

Gus wrinkled his nose. "It might lack some of the stories, but it's still just as creepy. I agree; Lassiter should know."

"Can we tell him tomorrow? I was planning on watching the Jake and the Fatman marathon this afternoon. That's why I wanted to wrap up the gymnastics case yesterday," Shawn protested, reaching for the remote.

"Fine," Gus huffed, grabbing the remote first and turning on the TV. "But only because I love me some William Conrad."

* * *

Lassiter was somewhere between fast asleep and half-awake when the peaceful quiet of his dark condo was interrupted by a loud banging on his door.

"Sweet Justice!" Lassiter had thought the shenanigans at his condo would be over now that Amy had been arrested. He was tempted to just ignore the banging but quickly gave up on that idea when it persisted even louder than before.

"I'm coming!" he yelled, stumbling through the living room and nearly tripping over the coffee table trying to get to the door. He checked the peephole, groaning as he saw who was on the other side. "Spencer, so help me, I will have you arrested for disturbing the peace if you don't stop it this instant!" he snapped, yanking open the door.

Shawn and Gus pushed their way in the moment the door was open. They were clinging to each other like they were scared out of their minds. Lassiter took a step back before they could latch onto him as well; judging from their expressions, it was a completely plausible possibility.

"Lassie!" Shawn was relieved to see the detective unharmed. He paused. "Are those really your pajamas?"

Lassiter glanced at the red and blue plaid flannel pajamas. He crossed his arms defensively. "They were a birthday gift from my mother."

Shawn seemed to accept that answer. "They look really fuzzy." He reached out to run a hand along Lassiter's sleeve.

Lassiter smacked the hand away and took another step back from the duo. "Did you two show up at my condo before dawn to compliment my sleepwear or am I under the influence of drugs again?" The detective still hadn't fully woken up, and he was in no mood to deal with the current situation.

"Here's the thing," Shawn began slowly. "We were going to tell you yesterday, but then we started watching Jake and the Fatman because Gus loves him some William Conrad."

"You know that's right," Gus gave his friend a fistbump. "Then when that was over we watched Criminal Minds and the episode was about a stalker who killed his victims in their own homes and we realized that waiting another minute could put your life in serious jeopardy."

"And since we couldn't actually call Thomas Gibson if anything happened to you, and Gus isn't really tall enough to pass as Shemar Moore, we decided we had to come over and tell you," Shawn added.

Lassiter's head was hurting just listening to the babble. "Jeopardy?"

"I'll take people who have stalker websites for 500, Alex!" Shawn exclaimed. "You have a stalker site! Laura Peters made you one! I found it yesterday."

"You should take comfort in the fact that there are no stories of matrimony on it," Gus tried to console the detective.

On the ride over, Shawn and Gus had been placing bets on Lassiter's reaction. They had come up with dozens of possibilities, but complete apathy was not on the list.

"You don't look concerned," Shawn observed, eyebrows arching in surprise.

"Why would I be concerned about a girl who has completed her state-ordered therapy?" Lassiter went back to his kitchen to start making his coffee.

Shawn and Gus shared a look and then Shawn followed the detective. "How did you know Laura completed her therapy?"

"That was posted on her website..." Gus trailed off.

"Lassie!" Shawn connected the dots. "Bad Lassie!" He shook his finger at the detective. "You do not look at websites dedicated to yourself."

"You didn't seem to have a problem with it last time," Lassiter told him calmly. He was staring intently at the coffee maker, willing it to brew faster, "Laura Peters has a restraining order against her, and there is no danger of me being kidnapped again. I appreciate your concern, Spencer, Guster, but I am completely safe."

"You might as well just say 'Good Day, Sir' and put us out on the stoop," Shawn rolled his eyes. "Look, where is your laptop? Let's fire it up and we'll take a peek at what the creepster herself has posted. Maybe it'll be five dozen pictures of your eyes." He batted his eyelashes at the detective for emphasis.

"If you promise to leave and not show up at the station for the rest of the day, I will play along." Lassiter headed for the spare bedroom he was using as an office.

"Unless the chief calls us in for a case," Shawn clarified. "In which case we will definitely still show up because Gus is obsessed with us being able to pay the bills."

"She won't," Lassiter muttered, ignoring the faces Shawn and Gus were making at each other. He opened the laptop and clicked a bookmark link in his browser. The website loaded up and Shawn and Gus were greeted with a picture of Lassiter. The caption read, "I'm Sexy and I Know It."

"That's awkward," Gus whispered to Shawn.

Lassiter ignored them and clicked to close the picture. "See, nothing out of the ordinary." He pointed to the wall of text.

Shawn squinted and leaned closer to the screen. "Dude, that's not the same text that was there last night."

"What?" Lassiter turned back to the computer.

* * *

_My Dearest Detective,_

_Don't think I don't know that you're reading my every post, Carlton. I know enough about you to realize that anyone who signs up for the forum as "Glockinator269" is probably you._

_I'm a little hurt that you haven't reached out to me even though I've sent you multiple letters and postcards. You're obviously intrigued by the fan club. I can't blame you. You've been living in Shawn's shadow ever since our last meeting._

_I'm not sure if you've read my latest letter, but since I haven't heard from you, I decided to reach out here. I feel like I'm in danger... I'm not sure why, call it a gut feeling or a woman's intuition, but I'm worried that something bad is about to happen._

_Help me, Detective Lassiter. You're my only hope._

_333,_

_Laura_

* * *

"Intuition," Shawn snorted in laughter. "Who does she think is going to buy this story?"

"It's kind of weird," Gus agreed. "It doesn't really sound like her either."

"Plus, throwing a Star Wars reference in a plea for help? It's probably not real," Shawn agreed.

Lassiter was massaging his temples, trying to get rid of the headache that had started the moment the duo had burst through his door.

"So, Lassie," Shawn grinned at the detective. "When are you making breakfast?"


	2. Chapter 2

It had taken Lassiter over half an hour to get Shawn and Gus out of his condo. Even after telling them he wasn't going to fall for Laura's schemes, the duo seemed convinced Lassiter would be making them waffles.

"We like powdered sugar and strawberries on them," Shawn was still protesting as Lassiter shoved him into the hallway and shut the door, throwing the deadbolt just in case.

He glared at the door for a moment as he realized that he was never going to be able to get back to sleep. He resigned himself to getting ready for the day, grumbling under his breath about psychic shenanigans.

He drove to the station, trying to forget about Laura Peters and her ridiculous website. Yes, he had made an account on the stupid thing, but that was only to keep closer tabs on a known sociopath. He hadn't posted or looked at the photo gallery... much.

By the time he reached the station, trying to forget about the website had only succeeded in making him more and more irritated by it. Several hours later, he was still grumbling under his breath as he filled his mug with fresh coffee when McNab appeared beside him.

"Any new cases?" Lassiter growled at the rookie.

"Nothing yet... Well, there's been a slew of break-ins near Sacramento and some assaults, but-"

"If the citizens of Sacramento can't keep their own valuables locked up or defend themselves, it's no concern of ours," Lassiter cut him off and headed for his desk. "At least I can catch up on some of these reports."

Juliet was waiting for him at his desk when he arrived with coffee cup in hand; she had the same look on her face that she'd had when Spencer had accidentally spilled coffee down the front of her new white blouse.

"Is there anything you'd like to tell me?" she asked him.

Lassiter ducked his head and busied himself with the pile of paperwork on his desk. "Not anything that I can think of."

"Maybe something about a website?" Juliet prompted.

"I hear the National Basset Hound Society updated their webpage," Lassiter commented, trying to be conversational.

"Carlton!" Juliet yelled at him, attracting the attention of the entire bullpen.

"Has Spencer been here?" Lassiter glanced around, as if the psychic would be hiding in the conference room or under his partner's desk.

"He called me after you kicked him out this morning," she replied, her voice lower but still exasperated.

"It was four in the morning and he wouldn't shut up about waffles!" Lassiter protested.

"I don't care about waffles!" Juliet glanced around and then grabbed Lassiter's arm. She half-dragged him into the conference room. Once she shut the door, she turned on him again. "You've known for weeks about the website." It wasn't a question; it was a direct accusation.

"I've been monitoring it," Lassiter sighed.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Juliet's irritation was gone, replaced by genuine worry.

"Because technically she isn't breaking her parole."

"You still could have said something," Juliet half-reached out like she wanted to hug him and then put her arms back at her sides. "I don't like her."

"She stalked your boyfriend," Lassiter scowled. "Of course you don't like her."

"She almost killed my partner," Juliet snapped at him. "That seems a bit more important."

Lassiter opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again. Letting out another sigh, he held out a hand. "I promise that if she contacts me again, you will be the very first person I tell. Deal?"

"Deal," Juliet bypassed his hand and gave him a hug.

"Can we go finish that paperwork now?" Lassiter asked, pulling away before anyone happened to look in. "I'd like to have a clean desk before the next case."

"After you show me the site." Juliet raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sweet Lady Justice; I should start charging for this," Lassiter grumbled, but followed her out to the bullpen and pulled up LassiterRocks .com. "See, nothing terrible."

Juliet pushed him out of the way and scrolled through the site herself. "It does sound a little ominous, though," she observed after a few minutes of reading.

"Well, so do those emails that threaten to curse you if you don't forward them within 24 hours, or people saying they're going to die if they don't get something they want," Lassiter responded. "It's just harmless internet jargon."

Juliet shook her head. "I'm not completely convinced."

"It'll be fine," Lassiter assured her. "Just be grateful there aren't any stories. Plus, these fans haven't organized any phone and email campaign to get you to appreciate me more."

"I appreciate you already," Juliet scowled at him.

"Laura Peters doesn't live in Santa Barbara any more," Lassiter assured her. "The worst she can do is email me pictures of kittens."

* * *

_Dear Lassitarians,_

_Lassitarians sounds like a political party... maybe we should all write in Carlton Lassiter for the election this year! Lol, I digress. Let's get back to the matter at hand; Carlton Lassiter visiting this site._

_Detective, I hope you aren't disappointed to see a lack of stories, you seem like the kind of man who would appreciate those. But, my therapist said that living in the fictional realities of my writings wasn't a healthy mental environment._

_Remember how I said I was in fear for my safety? The guy who lives four blocks from me was attacked yesterday! Attacked in his own home. It's scary how many people there are out there that want to hurt others. Maybe I'm next on this attacker's list? Carlton, I know that this may sound odd, but those hours we spent together in the basement of my cabin, watching my homemade documentary on Shawn Spencer, connected us in a deeply spiritual manner. You're the only one who can help me figure out who this attacker is._

_I know some of the others there might be trying to convince you not to trust me, but I've changed! I promise! Right now, I'm just worried that someone might be coming after me. I'm sure you can understand that._

_ <3 - Laura_

* * *

"What does she mean by 'deeply spiritual'?" Gus was leaning over Shawn's shoulder and staring at the computer screen. As soon as Juliet saw there was a new letter posted on the site, she had called Shawn and Gus down to the station. She was prepared to give Lassiter an intervention and block the site on the station's system, but she wanted to be rational about the whole thing.

"It's probably the kick in the face I gave her when she tackled me on the stairs," Lassiter spoke up from his desk. He was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

"What's the matter, Lassie?" Shawn glanced up at him. "Irritated that we're invading your own personal stalker site? Maybe Laura has a bedroom in her new house with pictures of your face plastered all over the walls."

Lassiter threw his empty Starbucks cup at the duo and then went back to scowling.

"Fine, I'm just going to call you Grumpy Smurf," Shawn smirked.

"Zip it, Spencer," Lassiter glared at the psychic.

McNab came over at that moment. "I don't mean to interrupt," he had an envelope in his hands, "but the chief wanted me to give this to you guys if you stopped by today." He handed the envelope to Gus.

"Our check for the gymnast case," Gus observed. "Thanks, McNab," he gave the rookie a fistbump. "Now we can go see the traveling Irish Step Dancers in Sacramento."

Buzz grinned, "Just be careful, the luck of the Irish might not be enough to save you from the assaults that they've been dealing with up there." He shook his head and turned back to the front desk.

Shawn shook his head and placed a comforting hand on Gus' shoulder. "Gus, we can go to the Lord of the Dance show some other time. I hear it's magically delicious." He kept a straight face until he said the last line and then he started laughing.

"Irish step dancing is a revered tradition," Lassiter snapped at him.

"Exactly," Gus nodded. "Maybe I'll just take Lassie with me; he appreciates talent."

"He doesn't appreciate me," Shawn protested.

"I appreciate you," Juliet put a hand on his shoulder, calming him down.

"You guys can have your weird dance date," Shawn rolled his eyes. "It's not like I wanted to go to Sacramento anyways." He froze, remembering the return address label from the letter Laura had sent Lassiter.

"What is it, Shawn?" Juliet studied her boyfriend's face for any clues.

"I just thought of another reason not to go to Sacramento," Shawn half-laughed as he looked at Lassiter. "Laura Peters is currently living there."

"The city has over 400,000 people living in it, Shawn. I doubt we'd run into Laura." Gus crossed his arms. "You're just jealous."

"Jealous?" Shawn repeated. "I don't want to get within a six hour drive of a convicted psychopath and that means that I'm jealous? I hope we all remember what happens when you play along with Laura's schemes."

"People get hurt," Juliet whispered.

Shawn nodded. "Exactly, Lassie gets shot and I find out more information than I ever needed to know about the world of fan fiction. I still have nightmares about those fake weddings." Shawn's voice was getting louder and louder. "So you guys go see your red headed, tight wearing, prancers and I will stay right here and eat Cheetos while watching The Voice."

"I haven't even accepted Guster's invitation to see the show," Lassiter mumbled. "Look, you two go find something to do with your check. I have cases to attend to." He grabbed the stack of reports from his desk and headed for the peace and quiet of the conference room.

* * *

Thankfully Spencer and Guster didn't show up again for the rest of the day and Lassiter was able to finish his work quickly. He picked up some Chinese on the way home and gave a sigh of relief when he unlocked the door to his condo.

He flipped the light switch by the door and immediately dropped the brown paper bag holding his food on the ground and drew his service weapon.

"Is that anyway to treat a guest?" a quiet feminine voice asked from the couch.


	3. Chapter 3

"Miss Peters," Lassiter leveled his gun with the young woman curled up on his couch and reading one of the magazines from his coffee table. "This is definitely in breach of your parole."

"I know," Laura sniffled, looking up at him. "But I tried doing things legally. Didn't you get all of my letters and website posts?"

Lassiter lowered his gun, but just slightly. He'd let his guard down with her once before and he had paid for it - quite painfully. "I did get those posts. But you should have gone to the Sacramento PD; it's outside my jurisdiction."

Laura crossed her arms. "Them? Their crime rates are through the roof! I need help from the best, Carlton," she pouted.

Lassiter could feel his headache from that morning returning. "How did you get in here?" He holstered his gun.

"Your super let me in," Laura smiled brightly. "I guess he thought I was your sister."

"Miss Peters," Lassiter began.

"Laura, please, call me Laura." She was sitting on the edge of the couch now, her attention fully on him.

"Laura," Lassiter sighed. "You need to leave before I have to arrest you for parole violation and unlawful entry," he said firmly.

Laura was immediately out of her seat and in his arms. "You can arrest me anytime you want, Detective." She gave him her best seductive face, clinging to his shirt.

Lassiter fought the urge to handcuff her right then and there, but only because doing so would give her exactly what she wanted. He gingerly extracted himself from her embrace and moved to the side, putting the overstuffed armchair between them. "I'm flattered that you find me attractive, but don't you think you're a little young?" He summoned all the negotiation training he'd ever had to reason with her.

"Carlton," Laura looked hurt. "Age is just a number. Didn't you feel the connection we had when we first met?"

"The connection of the drugs you used on me or the gun you pistol whipped me with?" Lassiter drawled sarcastically, his training forgotten.

Laura just smiled, twirling a lock of hair in her fingers. "You're so sexy when you're angry." She gave a happy sigh. "I like your new haircut, too." She climbed into the armchair, kneeling in the seat and reaching out for him. "It's so fluffy," she marveled.

Lassiter backed away, bumping into the wall. His sword was right behind him, maybe he could use that to defend himself.

"Miss Peters," Lassiter was beyond concerned at this point. "I suggest you leave, now. This is your last chance before I have you brought down to the station and booked for trespassing and harassment."

Laura looked like she wanted to protest but then took a deep breath and smiled sweetly. "Oh, Carlton, you'll learn." She headed for the door. "I guess I should respect your wishes, though. Email me if you want to get dinner sometime." She paused with her hand on the knob. "It was nice seeing you."

Once the door shut behind her, Lassiter lunged for it and flipped the deadbolted as quickly as he could. He checked the peephole to make sure she wasn't standing outside. He probably should call O'Hara and tell her that Laura had found out where he lived, but his partner had gotten so worked up at the station when Lassiter mentioned the letter that he didn't want to freak her out again.

Looking at the Chinese food that had spilled all over the floor, Lassiter swore under his breath and went to the kitchen to scrounge up something else for his dinner. If anything, he supposed he should at least be thankful that Laura had left without much of a fight, but it worried him that she had been able to get into his home so easily. Then he remembered how spacey his new building super was, and Laura sounded an awful lot like Lauren, who was on his emergency contact list.

Laura Peters was not a criminal mastermind, he reminded himself; she was just a disturbed young lady with a weird sense of humor. And more importantly she was also gone, which meant he could focus on other things, like getting dinner and relaxing after his long day at work.

* * *

"Do you think Lassiter would actually go to the show with me?" Gus was browsing through the website for the Lord of the Dance tour. "Tickets are going fast and I don't want to buy two tickets and then have no one to go with."

"Dude, no one cares about Michael Flatley," Shawn looked over from his desk. "Besides, if you want to see real Irish Step Dance, you just have to watch The Luck of the Irish when it's on the Disney channel."

"That movie is terrible," Gus protested making a face.

"I didn't say it wasn't," Shawn shook his head. "But that bad guy leprechaun could dance pretty well."

"That was a double, and then he was tricked by a seventh grader into living in Lake Erie for the rest of his life." Gus shook his head.

"Do you think Laura will actually keep bugging us to help her?" Shawn remarked after a moment of silence.

"It's kind of weird that she's so focused on Lassie now," Gus agreed. "I mean, she was about ready to kill him last time."

"Who knows, Gus," Shawn said. "The fangirl's mind is a scary place that I would much rather not venture into again."

"When did you venture into one before?" Gus frowned.

"You know... that one time when I wrote NCIS fanfic."

"You mean when you wrote a story about Lassiter dating the goth chick and he almost sued you for libel? Yes, I remember that."

"But he didn't," Shawn clarified. "And I currently have thirteen reviews on that little piece of creative writing."

"Lassiter told you to pull that off the internet!" Gus looked panicked. "If he finds it, he could still sue you. And by you, I mean us, which would end up just being me because you have no assets."

"I do too have an asset!" Shawn pointed to his backside indignantly.

Gus made a face. "Are we going to IHOP or not, because I've been craving waffles ever since Lassiter didn't give us any."

"You know that's right," Shawn was out the door. "Shotgun!"

* * *

Lassiter still hadn't been able to shake the unsettled feeling in his stomach that Laura Peters had been in his condo. The first call he made the next morning was to his building super with strict instructions that no one be allowed inside his apartment unless they had a warrant or his death certificate and a notarized letter from the state confirming his demise.

He was running on five hours of sleep and his third cup of coffee when he finally made it to the station just after seven. He was hoping that it would be a quiet day and he could go about his routine without any spastic psychic visions or any peep of Laura Peters.

Laura Peters was quickly becoming the ugliest of swear words in Lassiter's vocabulary. He knew the girl was unstable, but the hurt and fear in her eyes was enough to rattle the civic duty that Lassiter felt for every member of society, even the not quite rehabilitated stalker members.

He managed to keep all thoughts of the night before out of his head as he filed paperwork and reports. Juliet had taken the morning off for a doctor's appointment and everyone else in the station thankfully left him alone.

It was lunchtime before he bothered to look up from his computer. The mail had come and there was a postcard from Laura in his pile. It had a picture of downtown Sacramento on it and a short inscription.

_Carlton - isn't the city nice? I bet you'd make a great addition to their police force if you decided to move here with me. 33 - Laura_

Lassiter frowned and started to rip the postcard in half but paused mid-tear. He knew a detective in Sacramento; maybe he would stop feeling so weird about the whole affair if he asked Fulton to check up on Laura's story about her neighborhood.

Satisfied that this would make him feel better, Lassiter typed up a quick email and went to get another cup of coffee.

"Afternoon, partner," Juliet gave him a bright smile as she poured coffee into her own mug and then topped off his.

"Afternoon," Lassiter grumbled, grabbing the sugar and creamer.

"You look terrible," Juliet observed, sipping her coffee and studying him with worried eyes. "You must have been up all night."

Despite his vow not to worry her anymore, Lassiter knew that he would have to tell her about Laura's appearance. "Something like that," he replied, tossing the empty sugar packets in the garbage and stirring his own cup of coffee. "I had an unexpected visitor last night."

"I told Shawn not to show up at your apartment unannounced again," Juliet sighed.

"No, not Spencer and Guster," Lassiter shook his head. "Not this time." He relayed the story of Laura's plea for help, although he left out the part about the postcard when he saw the look in her eyes.

To her credit Juliet let him finish before speaking. "Carlton, I swear if I see that girl again, I'm going to punch her in the face." She was frowning, and Lassiter could tell she had an unnecessarily tight grip on her mug.

"If she shows up again, I will arrest her. I promise," Lassiter assured his partner.

"If you don't, I'll have Shawn and Gus stand guard outside your door and you'll have to feed them," Juliet threatened.

"Why don't you just lock me up?" Lassiter rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, partner, we have paperwork to file." Juliet gave him a pat on the shoulder and headed back to her desk.

* * *

That evening, Lassiter made sure he checked for signs of forced entry before unlocking his door, and once he had, he entered with his gun drawn and ready, just in case.

There were no unwelcome visitors in the front room, but he swept the entire apartment before settling down to make dinner and relax. He even went to bed at a reasonable time, although not before double checking the hallway outside his door and all the locks. He even made a quick trip to his mailbox in the lobby, just to be sure Laura was not there waiting for him to turn in. Satisfied not even the Huns could invade his apartment, Lassiter drifted off to sleep.

He wasn't sure how long had passed before he was roused by a loud banging on his door. He shoved his feet into his slippers, grabbed his bathrobe and stumbled toward the sound, yelling curses all the way at Spencer and Guster and whatever ideas they might have about appropriate times to ask for breakfast food.

"I swear I will shoot you both," Lassiter unlocked his door and swung it open. "There aren't any waffles here!" he shouted into the darkness of the hallway.

"Waffles?" a voice laughed. "Oh, Carlton, I don't want waffles."

That was the last thing Lassiter heard before his world exploded in a bright flash of light.

* * *

_Carlton!_

_Good to hear everything is running ship shape in Santa Barbara. From what I read in the papers, you've got your hands full with that psychic. I can't believe Karen is actually letting him hang around._

_Anyways, I did look into that assault you mentioned. It normally wouldn't have been as big of a deal, but with all the random attacks happening in that area, we're starting to look closer at each one. The man who was attacked was subdued with chloroform, and then after he was down, the attacker hit him over the head with something - we're not really sure what._

_The guy's fine now; he was in the hospital with a concussion and some bruises. His attacker is crafty though; they haven't left behind any DNA or fingerprints._

_Does that help you at all? I'm not finding any connection between our victim and the girl you mentioned. I forgot her name; I must have accidentally deleted the email you sent me._

_Julie and the kids are all doing great. Eve is going to highschool in the fall. Time sure flies! Hope things are going well in your personal life. I hear you're dating a con. You'll have to fill me in on that story when we have time._

_-Brian_


	4. Chapter 4

Checking to make sure that no one was watching, Juliet brought up LassiterRocks .com on her computer. She was just making sure that Carlton wasn't posting on the site anymore... and that Laura was staying as far away from her partner as possible. The best way to do that was through the unsettling fan site, but that didn't mean the entire station had to know.

Juliet waited impatiently for the site to load and frowned when it finally did. The most recent post was a picture of Carlton from when he had busted Chavez. Laura had posted that picture the morning before, citing that it was a perfect example of Carlton's hair and detective skills in one single image - what was it with this girl and men's hair?

She reached for the phone to call her partner. Laura had dutifully posted a factoid or picture of Lassiter every day for the past five months. She wasn't going to just stop all of a sudden for no reason. And that combined with the fact that Laura had been in Santa Barbara was putting Juliet on edge. But instead of dialing Lassiter's number, Juliet dialed Shawn's. He could check up on Lassiter and blame it on a vision, rather than Juliet's paranoia.

As the phone rang, Juliet headed for a quiet alcove where others wouldn't accidentally overhear her phone conversation.

"You have reached the voicemail of Shawn Spencer, psychic detective and pretzel eating contest winner, please leave a message after the beep."

"Shawn, I know that's not your voicemail; I can hear Gus in the background."

"Jules!" Shawn laughed. "I thought you were Lassie calling us."

"Why would Carlton call you on my cell phone?" Juliet rolled her eyes and waited for Shawn's ludicrous explanation. She felt more and more like her partner every day.

"Well, that's a tough one," Shawn sounded distracted on the phone.

"Are you playing ping-pong?"

"Nope, just pong. The Atari is hard to master with one hand." Shawn must have sensed the seriousness in her tone because he paused and then asked, "What's wrong, Jules?"

"Laura Peters hasn't updated the stalker site today and Carlton told me yesterday that she visited his condo."

"She's in town?" Gus' indignant voice came over the phone.

"Sorry, forgot to mention I put you on speakerphone," Shawn apologized. "Laura visited Lassiter? In a creepy Ghost of Stalker Present sort of way?"

"He said she came on to him," Juliet relayed the story of Laura's visit to the condo. "Look, Shawn, I don't know if it's all the years I've been working with Carlton or the fact that Laura Peters is a highly successful stalker, but I'm worried about my partner."

"Say no more, Jules. Gus and I will check up on Lassie," Shawn promised.

"Thank you," Juliet gave a sigh of relief. "Let me know as soon as you talk to him."

"Will do," Shawn gave her a kiss good-bye over the phone and then Juliet went back to her desk to try to focus on her work.

* * *

"Shawn, do you remember Lassiter telling us he would shoot us on sight if we went by his condo again?" Gus was staring dumbfounded at his friend.

"I remember that threat involving us asking for waffles," Shawn corrected him. "I don't know about you, but I certainly do not plan on asking for waffles; we're just checking up on my girlfriend's partner. Besides, his sweet, grandmotherly neighbor always hooks us up with cookies."

"You know that's right," Gus gave him a fistbump, "but for the record, this was your idea."

"Actually, it was Juliet's, but I can't throw her under the bus - or in front of the gun in this case. It's against the boyfriend code."

"There's no such thing as a boyfriend code," Gus grumbled.

"Technically, they're more like guidelines than actual rules." Shawn shrugged on his jacket.

"That's the pirate code," Gus tsked at him.

"I've heard it both ways," Shawn laughed, heading out the door. "C'mon, let's check up on Lassifrass and get some chocolate chip oatmeal cookies."

* * *

"You boys seem to visit Carlton quite a bit," Erna Greenway commented as she offered a plate of cookies to Shawn and Gus, who were seated on the sofa in her living room. "You'd think after all this time, you'd remember that he lives down the hall three doors." She gave them a knowing look as she settled into her own chair with a cup of coffee.

"Gus is dyslexic and I have that disease where I swap numbers around all the time," Shawn grabbed a cookie from the plate.

"That's what dyslexia is," Gus took a cookie as well. "These cookies are delicious, Mrs. Greenway."

"Please, call me Erna, Burton," Erna looked between the two. "Your visit doesn't have anything to do with the young lady who's been hanging around Carlton's this past week, does it?"

"Young lady?" Gus repeated. He and Shawn shared a look.

"Yes, and too young if you ask me. Carlton is a fine looking man, but he isn't a spring chicken anymore. He needs a woman who can care for him, not some floozie in a flowered dress."

"How often has this, uh, floozie been here?" Shawn tried to act casual.

"She was here two nights ago, made a big fuss about forgetting her key and had the super let her in." Erna sighed dramatically. "I went out to the movies that night. Have you seen the new one with that British actor? It was very good."

"Did you see the young lady leave?" Gus asked, trying to remember what time Lassiter had told Juliet he'd kicked Laura out.

"Oh, she was gone by the time I got home, and Carlton was in a tizzy. I went to check up on him," Erna offered the cookies to them again. "He kept checking the hallway and even went down to the lobby, still acting like he was trying to avoid some sort of trouble."

Shawn grabbed two more cookies and stood. "Erna, you have been lovely as always, but we do need check up on Lass- Carlton."

"You boys be nice to him," Erna gave Shawn a doubtful look as she followed them out into the hall.

"We promise we will be nice to him," Gus assured her.

"As nice as we always are," Shawn added, wincing as Gus elbowed him in the ribs.

"Remind Carlton that he's coming over for Sunday dinner this weekend. That boy needs to eat more," Erna shook her head and went back into her own condo.

"It's like old ladies get psychic with old age," Gus whispered as he and Shawn headed down the hall to Lassiter's condo.

"Please, Gus, you and I both know there's no such thing as-" Shawn stopped mid-sentence.

"Oh no, Shawn," Gus looked at the partially-open front door to condo 536. "The last time I was in this position, I was almost skewered by a drugged Lassiter. I will not go in there."

"Dude, what if Lassie is lying on the floor, bashed over the head by Laura and he dies because you refused to face danger like a man?" Shawn slowly pushed the door open.

"What if he's not and I die because he has that sword again? Shawn! Do not go in there," Gus hissed. "Call Juliet and let her find Lassie's lifeless body."

"I will call Juliet," Shawn assured him, "from inside the condo." He put his iPhone to his ear as he slowly walked through the rooms, looking for any signs of Lassiter.

"Shawn! Please tell me that Carlton caught a stomach virus and has been too busy throwing up to call in sick." Juliet's worried voice came over the phone mid-way through the first ring.

"Sorry, babe, no sign of Lassie," Shawn sighed. "The bed's not made, the coffee pot still has fresh grounds in it, and Lassie's neighbor said she saw a young woman hanging around the other day."

"Laura," Juliet's voice sank.

"Shawn! You need to see this." Gus' voice came from Lassiter's office.

"Come over to Lassie's; maybe Laura left a clue to where she took him." Shawn tried to stay positive. "Gus thinks he found something. I'm ninety-nine percent sure it's not a body because there was no screaming, but I will let you know if it is." Shawn put away his phone and hurried to join Gus.

His friend was sitting at Lassiter's computer. "Look at this," Gus pointed to the screen.

"Is it another one of Laura's creepy blog posts?" Shawn quickly scanned the computer.

"Lassiter left his email open," Gus explained. "Look at the one he was replying to."

"Who is Brian Fulton?" Shawn scanned the email. "I didn't know Lassie had any friends besides us."

"His email is a department email for the Sacramento PD. It looks like Lassiter asked about Laura's assault claims."

"Which doesn't give us anything," Shawn sighed. "We already knew she Lassie-snatched him."

"But it means that this guy can go to Laura's house in Sacramento if we call him," Gus pointed out.

"If she took him there," Shawn sighed. "Check the stalker site again. I can't believe Laura would stay quiet for this long."

Gus switched over to the internet browser and pulled up Laura's website.

"Shawn! Gus!" Juliet's voice carried through the condo a moment before she came into the room with her sidearm drawn.

"You got here fast," Gus raised his eyebrows.

"I used the siren; it seemed like an emergency," Juliet holstered her gun. "Why are you guys on there? I just checked her site an hour ago."

"I had a feeling," Shawn turned his attention back to the computer.

* * *

_Good Morning, Shawn, Gus, and Detective O'Hara,_

_I know you guys are reading this. I'm sure that you're really worried about Carlton. I would be too if he went missing suddenly. I want to assure you that Carlton is fine. We made pancakes this morning. :)_

_He's going to protect me until they find this psychopath who is still at large in Sacramento._

_See! Carlton is just fine hanging out with me. Maybe this will end up like that movie with Kurt Russell and Goldie Hawn... Overboard? Yeah, that was a sweet movie._

_H &K,_

_Laura_

_P.S._

_I'm really happy for you, Shawn and Juliet. Carlton told me that you two are dating. And if you're looking for a cute couple name, I think Shules fits perfectly. xoxo I'm thinking Carlton and I are going with Laurlton._

* * *

"Firstly, Overboard is nothing like Laura and Lassie," Shawn was indignant. "Also, I already suggested Shules as our couple name."

"More importantly, look at her stupid picture." Juliet pointed to the screen where a very subdued-looking Lassiter was sitting at a kitchen table with his arm around a beaming Laura's shoulders.

"This is not good," Shawn whispered.

"Thank you for the understatement of the century," Gus rolled his eyes.

"Time for a road trip," Juliet said grimly. "I hear Sacramento is lovely this time of year; the psychos are in full bloom." She headed for the door.

Shawn and Gus shared a concerned look and then hurried after her.

"Don't be so pessimistic, Jules," Shawn called. "Road trips are always fun!"

"Yeah, it's buckets of fun to sing along to Journey while worrying your partner is going to start suffering from Stockholm Syndrome." Juliet shot Shawn a glare. "We need to get ahold of the Sacramento PD. Maybe they can check out the address on Laura's return address labels while we drive there."

"Lassiter's detective friend is Brian Fulton," Gus chimed in, remembering the name from the email.

* * *

"This is Detective Fulton," Brian almost didn't grab the phone as it rang on his desk. He was going to be late for his daughter's graduation, but he knew his wife would understand... it was just a kindergarten graduation... not the real thing, right?

"Brian Fulton, congratulations! You've been awarded the Friend of the Year award by Carlton Lassiter," Shawn half-shouted into the phone.

Fulton almost hung up, but it sounded like there was a struggle happening on the other end of the line.

"Detective?" a woman's voice was on the line this time.

"This is Brian Fulton." He glanced at his watch and hoped it was just a telemarketer so he could hang up.

"My name is Juliet O'Hara, I'm a detective in Santa Barbara. I work with Carlton Lassiter."

"Right, Carlton's mentioned you a couple times. You're his partner, right?"

"Yes," she replied, relieved Fulton seemed to be a nice guy. "I was really hoping you could help me out with something."

"If it can happen in the next 45 seconds, anything," Fulton checked his watch again.

"I think Carlton's up in Sacramento," Juliet knew there wasn't time to explain Laura's entire history with her partner. "Can you check up on a house for me and see if Laura Peters is there? I think she might have Carlton there under duress." She read off Laura's address to him.

"Are you sure about this?" Fulton was wondering if he was being pranked by the other town's police department.

"Pretty sure," Juliet sighed.

"Look, it's on the way to my kid's school. I'll see what I can find out and give you a call back."

"Thank you so much," Juliet exclaimed. "We're driving up there, but I don't think checking up on Laura Peters can wait seven more hours."

"I'll let you know," Fulton reassured her and hung up. "I'm going to be so late," he mumbled to himself and bolted for the door.

* * *

_Shawn! Listen, I grabbed your number from Carlton's phone. I think it's kind of weird you changed your number since I last had to text you. Anyways. Don't worry about Carlton; there's no need to send any more policemen. I mean, the detective was kind of cute, but he's married... and not Carlton. Carlton said to say hi! We're about to make some delicious sandwiches for lunch and watch Die Hard. - Laura_


	5. Chapter 5

Lassiter was silent as he pushed the pasta salad around on the plate in front of him. He knew it wasn't poison, he'd made it himself, but he just had no appetite... not with the young woman sitting across from him.

"Please pass the salt," Laura smiled and motioned to the salt shaker sitting by Carlton's elbow. He didn't acknowledge the request; he just kept pushing the pasta around.

"Carlton," Laura half scolded. "Pass me the salt and eat your lunch. You'll waste away if you don't eat anything." She was smiling brightly and munching away at her own salad, sandwich and fruit.

Carlton gave her a withering glare and set the salt shaker in front of her with a loud thunk on the table. She was either oblivious to his distaste for the situation, or she liked his general grumpiness. Under any normal circumstances, he would have already subdued her, handcuffed her, and contacted the proper authorities, but this was not normal. Brian Fulton was somewhere in the house and Lassiter needed to know that the other cop was safe before he did anything.

"If you don't eat anything, then we won't be able to play dominoes," Laura threatened. She scooted her chair around the table so that she was sitting kitty-corner to him. "Do I need to pretend the noodles are an airplane?" She picked up his fork and started making engine noises.

"No!" Lassiter stood up, knocking his chair over. He backed away from her and held out his hands.

Laura frowned and put the fork down. "I was just trying to introduce some fun into our relationship." She crossed her arms and studied him. "Is this because of that other cop who showed up here?"

"Brian has nothing to do with any of this," Lassiter snapped at her. "Where is he?"

"He's fine," Laura smiled. "I'm just a little irked that he showed up in the middle of our bonding session."

Lassiter could feel his skin crawl. Laura's bonding session had included trying to cuddle next to him on the couch. It was like she believed that if she was in close enough proximity to him, he would be forced to like her.

"And anyways," Laura continued cheerily. "You survived the chloroform last time. Your precious Brian will be fine - unless you decide to leave, or try to save him." She gave Lassiter a smile that the detective could only describe as creepy and reached out to run a hand through his hair. "But enough about him. Let's talk about you!"

* * *

"I think I should text her back," Shawn said from the backseat.

"I think you don't get any say," Gus rolled his eyes. "The last time you tried to save Lassiter from Laura, he got shot."

"Barely, and he made a full recovery," Shawn retorted. "Plus I got injured too, remember?"

"You got punched in the jaw, Shawn," Gus clarified. "That is not as serious as being chloroformed, knocked down a flight of stairs, tied up, and shot."

"Guys!" Juliet exclaimed, looking away from the road long enough to glare at both friends. "Laura is talking about Carlton like he's her soul mate. What do you think is going to happen when she finds out that he's dating a woman currently incarcerated?"

"That's only if Lassie blabs about Marlowe," Shawn pointed out.

* * *

Lassiter was sitting as far away from Laura as possible. She had insisted that they sit on the couch to watch a highlight reel from Lassiter's noteworthy arrests, but that didn't mean he had to snuggle with her while doing so.

"Hey, Carlton," Laura looked over at him, crawling over the cushions to close the space between them. "How did you break your nose? Did some hardened criminal punch you while avoiding arrest?"

Lassiter unconsciously put a hand to his nose. "That? Marlowe decked me when she helped us solve a case." He felt a little bit of pride when talking about his girlfriend's involvement in the case.

"Who's Marlowe?" Laura's eyes were watching him carefully. "Is she an undercover policeman?"

"Marlowe is... someone that could be called a friend I guess," Lassiter replied, choosing his words carefully. He wasn't sure how Laura would react to the phrase 'girlfriend'.

"A special friend?" Laura's eyes narrowed.

"I helped her after I arrested her brother, and she shaved some time off her prison sentence by getting us information on a case. The broken nose was part of the cover..." Lassiter supplied, not believing his own story, even though it was 100% true.

"Oh, Carlton, you don't need to help her anymore." Laura put a hand on his knee. "I'm here to help you and she can get professional therapy; that did wonders for me." She gave him a smile.

Lassiter gritted his teeth and took a deep breath, counting to ten in his head to keep from exploding. If it wasn't for the fact that he didn't know if Brian was alright or not, he would have pinned Laura to the floor with his knee between her shoulders at this point.

Laura sighed softly and then turned the TV off. "You stay right here," she winked at him. "I need to take some lunch to your cop friend."

"I could help you," Lassiter said quickly. If he could accompany Laura, then he would know where Brian was, which would greatly increase their chances of escape.

"That won't be necessary," Laura rummaged in a drawer for something. "I don't need you to get distracted by his whiny voice. You can just stay here."

Before Lassiter knew what was happening, she had shoved a rag in his face and his vision went blurry.

* * *

"What was the address on the return label on Carlton's card?" Juliet had pulled off the highway and into a gas station parking lot. They were just inside the Sacramento city limits. The drive should have taken eight hours, but they'd gotten there in just under seven.

"555 Poplar Drive," Shawn recited. "But you don't think she's actually still going to be there, do you?"

"It's at least worth a shot." Juliet punched the address into her phone to get directions.

"Do you think Detective Fulton found anything?" Gus asked.

"Why have we never heard of Fulton before?" Shawn pondered. "I mean, if I were Lassie and I actually had a friend to share personal life details with, I probably would have brought him up a lot. Like, every day someone told me I wasn't a real person."

"You're the only person who ever does that, Shawn," Gus corrected.

"Regardless of how many friends Carlton has or doesn't have," Juliet interrupted, "it's nice to have someone local. I'm just a little concerned that he hasn't gotten ahold of us."

"It is almost six," Shawn agreed. "Maybe that graduation went long. I bet kindergartners have a crazy after party."

"After parties are for prom," Gus rolled his eyes.

"I've heard it both ways," Shawn shrugged.

"No you haven't," Gus muttered. "There's Poplar!" He pointed to a street to their left.

Juliet made a sharp left onto the street, causing Shawn and Gus to lurch against their seatbelts.

"Easy there, Jules, we need the cops to help us here, not arrest us," Shawn half-joked, ducking his head when Juliet shot him a glare.

555 Poplar was a tiny house on a quiet street. The white front with blue shutters actually looked inviting, Shawn thought, if you didn't know who owned the house.

"It looks deserted," Gus observed, glancing around. "Do you think she's here?"

"One way to find out," Juliet replied determinedly, pulling into the driveway and turning off the car engine.

She lead the way to the front door. Shawn stuck close behind her, and Gus stayed about three feet behind him.

"I don't need to get attacked for showing up," Gus said defensively when Shawn hissed at him to come closer.

Juliet took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. It dinged cheerily through the house, but after the bell died down, there was complete silence.

"I don't think she's here, Jules," Shawn stated from where he was studying the small rock garden near the front step. He bent down and picked up a larger rock, shaking it with a look of satisfaction as something rattled inside. "Look Gus, she shops at the same hide-a-key store as you!"

"You know I got rid of my hide-a-key years ago," Gus grumbled.

"Shawn..." Juliet was hesitant.

"Babe, if she isn't here, there might be a clue to where she's got Lassifrass, and possibly Fulton." Shawn said gently. "It technically isn't breaking and entering, I have a key." He held up the silver key from the rock he had picked up. "Besides, Laura wouldn't hesitate to use a hide-a-key to get into someone's house."

"And if she is there, we'll get surprised and probably shot," Gus said matter of factly.

"But we won't, because Jules has a gun," Shawn shot Gus a look. "Now do you want to find Lassie or not? I for one, am willing to brave anything to finally find him."

"Even a bullet from Laura's gun?" Gus asked dubiously.

"She's already proven she can't shoot me even when she tries. It must be the negative energy she has towards me," Shawn shrugged. He didn't look as sure as before, however, and after shooting a glance at the door, handed Juliet the key. "Here Jules; ladies first."

Juliet didn't take the key from him. She glanced in the window, peeking between the blinds. "It does look empty," she sighed. "You unlock the door, but stay behind me while I clear the house."

Gus nodded quickly. "Whatever you say, Juliet."

Juliet counted to three and then nodded at Shawn, who unlocked the door and threw it open. Using her police skills, Juliet cleared the rooms one by one. Shawn and Gus stayed true to their promise and remained just inside the door while Juliet made sure that there was no one in the house.

Visibly frustrated, she came back to the duo. "There's no sign of anyone."

"They have to have been here; this is where we told Fulton to go," Gus objected.

Shawn was busy scanning the room, picking up clues as he stopped the messy couch in the living room, the dirty dishes in the sink, and the dvd cases strewn on the floor in front of the TV. "I think they were," he observed.

"Then we have to figure out where they went," Juliet had holstered her sidearm and was walking through the rooms again. She too spotted the dirty dishes and the dvd cases.

"And why they left," Shawn was opening closets and examining their contents.

"I found the shrine," Gus' voice carried from the opposite end of the house.

Shawn and Juliet hurried in the direction of Gus' voice and found the man standing in the middle of a room. The walls, ceiling and floors were plastered with Lassiter memorabilia.

"At least she's predictable." Shawn wrinkled his nose at the pictures and newspaper clippings. "It's just like last time, only it's Lassie now and not me."

"How did she even get all of these if she has a restraining order?" Gus wanted to know.

"Please Gus, do you think a crazy person like Laura cares about restraining orders?" Shawn laughed. "Plus, it's called the internet."

"I think a lot of these are pictures of you with you cut out of them," Juliet told Shawn.

Shawn leaned in to study one. "Why would she do that?" he complained. "I'm the best part of these!"

Gus kicked him. "Shawn, we need to focus on finding Lassie."

"She even cut out my hair!" Shawn continued, ignoring his friend.

"Look," Juliet pushed them out of the shrine room to focus on the matter at hand. "We know they aren't here, but where did they go? It's not like Lassiter would go with her willingly, and Laura isn't strong enough to carry two unconscious, full grown men by herself.

"Don't doubt the power of crazy, Jules," Shawn commented and then paused thoughtfully. "I bet she could drag them to her car; she's done that before. She took Lassie to a cabin last time. Maybe she's got another one of those around?"

"How would we find that out?" Gus was perusing the contents of the table and kitchen counters. "I don't see any mail, and I doubt you could just text her and ask," he said, sticking his head inside one of the kitchen cabinets.

Shawn shrugged. "I could try." He pulled out his phone.

"Don't," Juliet stopped him. "We don't need to alert her to anything."

"Call the station and have them run her financials," Gus suggested. "If she's paying bills for anything at another place it'll be there." He rejoined the others, a bag of Bugles in hand.

"Dude," Shawn made a face.

"Food is food, Shawn."

"Even when it belong to a crazy person?" Shawn raised an eyebrow.

"These are perfectly good chips, Shawn!" Gus defended himself.

Shawn raised an eyebrow. "Suit yourself, buddy. But don't blame me when you start stalking the Chief later."

"Stalker tendencies aren't contagious!" Gus shoved another handful of Bugles in his mouth to prove his point. "Suck it, Shawn, suck it."

"You suck it," Shawn retorted.

"Guys!" Juliet snapped. She had her cell phone pressed to her ear and was glaring at Shawn and Gus. Before she could continue, the call connected, and she turned to talk to McNab.

"Suck it," Gus whispered at Shawn as soon as Juliet's back was turned.

Juliet swiveled and shot both of them another glare and then greeted the rookie on the other end. "Buzz! I need a favor."

* * *

Carlton's vision swam back into focus very, very slowly. He felt like he'd been hit with a bus, and then when he was down, someone had run over him with a steamroller. There was something scratchy underneath his face; it felt like wool.

"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey," Laura's voice cooed from above him. "Sorry about the headache you probably have, but I couldn't have you or Fulton blabbing to anyone where my secret base is." She laughed and then Lassiter felt her move away from him.

Slowly sitting up, Lassiter was trying to will his head to stop pounding. He managed to open his eyes and look around. It was definitely not the house in which he'd woken up that morning, and he doubted Laura had done a complete redecorating spree while he'd been out.

"Laura?" His voice was raspy and hoarse, making him wonder just how long he'd been out.

"Yes, darling?" Laura was immediately by his side, offering him water.

"Where in the name of Sweet Lady Justice am I?" He could see fir trees outside the windows.

"I love it when you say that," Laura grinned happily. "I can't tell you, though. It's a secret." She winked, then continued, "Just know that you're someplace safe."

* * *

_Dear Anyone Who Might Still Be Reading This,_

_I know that Carlton isn't reading this anymore (he gets to hear things first hand now!). And I doubt that Shawn Spencer has been keeping tabs on this since he can't be bothered to read three words that aren't about him._

_But to any lurkers out there, just know that I had to move quickly and very suddenly. My new detective friend - you know, the married one who isn't as cute as Carlton - he let it slip that some mean nasty people know where I live. I can't stand people who interfere with their partners' personal lives. It isn't like Juliet O'Hara is dating my sweet Carlton._

_Oops. My therapist told me I shouldn't be so negative about people I dislike, so I'll stop there. Just wanted to catch you all up on the current goings-on around here. I know Carlton will love our new home!_

_Speaking of which, I need to finish helping him get settled. Look for another update tomorrow!_

_xoxo_

_Laura soon-to-be-Lassiter_


End file.
